


Warm hands, Cold toes

by 394percentdone



Series: How to Blow a Kiss to the Stars [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/394percentdone/pseuds/394percentdone
Summary: sometimes, chilling isn't the right mood





	

**Author's Note:**

> again, edited version from earlier on tumblr

It all started because the damn heater had to go out. Right in the middle of the Martian winter. Of course. It was definitely no fault of Juno’s own, he would never ignore pressing matters of maintenance for the sake of saving money, he was an adult who kept up with his adult responsibilities.

 

Now here he was, stuck in his apartment during the sandstorm of the year while it was cold enough to see his breath fog in front of his face. Juno shivered, and pulled the closest of the blankets he had wrapped around himself a little closer. The sound of clinking ceramics echoed in from the kitchen, followed by the high pitched whine of a tea kettle. Juno hid a secret smile inside his blanket, he’d never thought of himself as the domestic type before, but if this was what it entailed, then he’d be a fool for not trying.

 

Then again, there was a reason Juno hadn’t ‘settled down’ as Rita put it. A whole list of reasons which Juno ran through as a mental checklist of sorts when Nureyev stepped into his line of sight. It was almost enough to make Juno’s heart skip a beat right there, Nureyev was standing just this side of Juno’s meager kitchen; two steaming mugs of tea in his hands, the paltry light filtering in through the swirling sand outside illuminating him, adding a shine to his soft hair, playing off the steam to throw fractals of light around his hands, hands Juno was intimately familiar with.

 

Juno bundled the blanket around him even higher around his face, making sure not even a hint of his smile or the way his breath stuttered in chest made it to Nureyev.

 

Nureyev smiled softly at him anyway, almost like he knew Juno was hiding from him on purpose; and Juno supposed it was probably a fool’s errand to ever try to truly keep anything secret from Peter Nureyev, but secrets needed to be found and Juno would be the biggest liar on Mars if he said he didn’t want to be chased by this whirlwind of a master thief.

 

“Budge up Juno dear, I would so hate to catch some horrid cold out here by myself.” Nureyev sat their mugs down on Juno’s small coffee table, which though usually covered in papers -from cases, from his landlord, from Rita, from trying to track down Nureyev whenever he left- was bare.

 

Juno gradually unwound himself from his mess of blankets, earning more than a few fondly exasperated looks and nudges with warm hands. “Really darling, I’m going to freeze exposed like this.”

 

“Whose idea was it to only wear boxers and a sweater while making the tea?” Cold toes suddenly placed themselves on Juno’s warm, uncovered calves. He squawked in complaint,  drawing his defenseless limbs in on himself. “Betrayed!” Juno fell to the side, taking all of his blankets with him.

 

Next to him Nureyev laughed, and wormed himself in between the back of the couch they were resting on and Juno. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to escape me that easily my dear detective.”

 

The words, whispered into his ear like a goddamn promise, sent a full body shudder through Juno. “Oh really, is that what you think.”

 

“It’s what I _know_ love.” Nureyev pulled on the blankets until Juno relented, dragging them around until they were both covered by them. “There, I think that’s a more proper arrangement, what do you think Juno?”

 

“I think you’re full of shit.” Juno grinned, twisting around to face Nureyev directly. The muted red tinged light suffusing the room lit Nureyev’s face like something out of stream; turning his skin into molten bronze like the ancient statues back on earth, illuminating his eyes and making them actually fucking sparkle.

 

And his lips; Juno pulled himself up short, there was a whole _list_ of reasons why he shouldn’t be involved with this man, he’d been repeating them moments ago Juno knew it. Yet, Juno couldn’t remember a single reason why he would want to stop, so he didn’t.

 

Chapped lips pressed against Juno’s own, unmoving and probably surprised, then Nureyev was kissing him back.

 

It was like it always was when Juno kissed Peter Nureyev, nothing short of magic. Time could have stopped around them and Juno would not have noticed. Maybe it did, the problems of the city falling away from them like so much dust. Breathless, that’s the only way Juno could describe the way Nureyev made him feel; thrilling as a motorcycle chase through dark streets, the world’s greatest treasure not the one they’d stolen but the feel of Peter Nureyev’s body pressed tight against his.

 

Eventually they had to part, breathing becoming necessary when the air from each others lungs ran out. Juno gasped desperately, a fish out of water, nothing could come close to the way Nureyev could make him feel; it was dangerous, too dangerous but Juno couldn’t bring himself to care. Not here, and not now at any rate; there would always be later to deconstruct his thoughts, to let fear and self doubt creep their way back in. To remember his list, count through it every time Nureyev had to leave, off on his next grand adventure.

 

Nureyev looked at him through lidded eyes, “Juno, tell me if you want me to stop, but if not..”

 

Juno swallowed, hard. Then he shook his head, and Nureyev’s face slid into a smooth smile. Nureyev brought his hands from where they’d been resting on Juno’s hips, drawing them slowly up Juno’s torso, catching in Juno’s giant sleeping shirt. He kissed Juno, softly almost tenderly at first, then moving down along his jawline.

 

Juno hiccuped, a small sound more breath than any actual noise, but Nureyev stopped immediately. “Juno?”

 

Juno hesitated for a split second, but really he knew there was no question for him. There was nothing separating them right here, right now. And there was nothing in the whole damn galaxy that Juno wanted more in this moment than Peter Nureyev.

 

“Stay the night?” It came out halting and unsure to Juno’s ears, but there was no time to doubt himself. Not here, bathed in the shimmering light of the sun flowing in through shifting sand outside Hyperion City, secure in the knowledge there would be a tomorrow in which he, Juno Steel, could wake up next to this wonderfully breathtaking man next to him.

 

“Anything for you Juno.” Nureyev’s answer was quick and confident, everything Juno wasn’t.

 

But it didn’t matter; there would be tonight, in which Juno would gladly reacquaint himself with Peter, and there would be tomorrow when Juno would make himself known to Peter by waking him up with cold hands and toes. And after that, well, they could make it up as they went.

**Author's Note:**

> damn do i love these boys


End file.
